Sweat drips off his face. On his knees, he looks up and can barely believe what his eyes are seeing. There she is, in all her immaculate glory. There she is, as perfect as he’d imagine her.
“May I…touch?” he asks.
She takes one step forward toward him. She extends her right arm and flexes her 18 inch bicep for him. He stops breathing, mesmerized by this powerfully erotic demonstration of strength. Her enormous muscles captivate him. He is a slave to her muscles. Strong as an ox, she extends her left arm and flexes her other 18 inch bicep. A smile creeps across her gorgeous face.
“Yes, dear. Touch to your heart’s delight,” she says.
He takes a deep breath and lightly brushes his fingers against her right bicep. Rock hard. Solid. Veiny. As big as a grapefruit. He feels her coarse skin and is rendered completely speechless. Never before in his life has he ever seen muscles this enormous on a woman. Never has he ever seen a woman who looks like this. He doubts he ever will again.
Dropping her arms, she turns to a side chest pose. Her barrel chest expands to superhuman proportions. Hardness forms in his pants. His breathing nearly stops for a second time.
“Do you like my body?”
Isn’t the answer to that obvious?
“Yes, ma’am. I love your body. Very much. It’s perfect.”
Every inch of her body is covered in huge, ripped muscles. Not a single centimeter of her body is flat, flabby or weak. Strength, supremacy and feminine grace exudes from her entire being. Power, control, authority, beauty, all of it. There has never been anyone like her on this planet before.
“Thank you. What part of my body do you like the most?”
I want to touch the shoulders of Arti Sharma Lopes!
His hands greedily rub her thick thighs. She wiggles her quad from left to right, confidently showing off her incredible muscle control. His attention moves to her hard calves, which particularly stand out when wearing these sparkly blue stiletto heels.
“Everything, ma’am. I love everything. But if I had to choose one part…” he begins, standing on his feet and facing her directly, “I’d have to choose your shoulders. Wow. So perfectly rounded.”
He caresses her shoulders with finesse. Not wanting to be treated like such a delicate flower, she grabs his hands and brings them close to her chest. Her eyes become serious. He has no idea how to react.
“Don’t touch me like I’m a special piece of art. I’m a woman. A strong, beautiful woman who’s very fucking proud of her body. I’ve made a lot of sacrifices to get this body. Lifting, hardcore dieting, drinking gallons of water every day, the soreness, the pain, the misery, the loneliness of cooking and working out and resting day after day after fucking day…so don’t treat me like I’m your girlfriend. I’m not your fucking girlfriend, am I?”
The only response he could give is to nod his head in agreement. Would that please her?
“Good. I’m glad we can agree on that. Remove my bikini top, please.”
Instantaneously, he follows orders and unties her bikini bra strap. It drifts to the floor and lands silently. He looks down and sees her pair of small, shrunken breasts with unbelievably stiff, one-inch long nipples. He pinches them lightly and hears a faint moan escape from her throat.
“Ooh, that’s more like it. I like it when you touch me like that. I punish my body every single day to get it to look this way. I want you to reward my hard work by giving me all the pleasure I deserve.”
The impeccably chiseled physique of Desiree Ellis.
“Yes, ma’am. Anything you say, ma’am,” he promises.
Her nipples grow harder and harder. Could they be an inch and a half long? He cups her breasts and squeezes them playfully. Then he moves on to her six-pack abs, trailing his fingers between the chiseled grooves of her abdomen. Another moan is heard from her.
“Let’s get on the bed, darling. Follow me,” she commands.
Kicking off her heels, he hears them plop on top of the hardwood floor. But that’s about furthest thing from his attention. His focus is completely on her. What does she plan to do next? He could only wait and see. She lies on the bed and spreads her legs wide. He sees a substantial bulge in her panties. What could that be? Is that what he thinks it is?
“Take off my bottom. Now!”
Quickly, he gets down on his knees and unties both sides of her bikini bottom. He listens to her heavy breathing as the last piece of clothing is removed from her divine body. She takes her panties and tosses them aside. His eyes fixate on her engorged clitoris protruding out between her legs.
Oh. My. Fucking. GOD!!!!!
At least three inches long, her massive phallic-like clitoris proudly stands at attention right in front of his face. She notices his shock and laughs out loud. Her deep rumbling laugh reverberates throughout the room. His jaw drops. His heartbeat skyrockets. There is no other reaction he can give other than remaining frozen in sheer astonishment.
“Is that what I think it is?” he meekly asks.
“Find out for yourself, honey. Go ahead. Explore what I have down there.”
Taking this as his cue to proceed, he opens his mouth and lowers it onto her gorgeous clit. He begins to suck it as hard as he can. She groans in pleasurable response. He cannot believe the amount of flesh she has between her long strong legs. But he ceases to think and continues to suck on her, using his tongue to lap her sensitive tip. Her senses go into overdrive. She’s wanted a man to do this to her for a very long time. She’s glad it got to be him. She’s glad she could give him this opportunity.
Meanwhile, he strokes her thighs and feels them twitch. He traces his thumb across a long vein going down her left hamstring. He knows he will never be able to be with a woman like her ever again, so he’s doing all he can to soak up the experience.
She feels her climax building. She knows she’s close. Does he also know? He’ll soon find out…
Finally, she comes. Her breathing intensifies. He sticks his finger inside her vagina and feels her walls contracting around him. Very wet down there, he observes. His erection is going to burst out of his underwear at any moment. When her orgasm subsides, she closes her legs and rolls onto her side. She is out of breath. She is pleased. She is happy. But she is far from satisfied.
Far, far from it!
Moments pass before she sits up on the bed. With fire in her eyes, she leaps up and tackles him to the ground. He helplessly falls backward. Impulsively, she rips off his clothes until he too is completely naked. His arousal multiplies. He loves that she’s taking control. He does nothing to resist.
Melissa Dettwiller in a cute yellow bikini.
Now that both of them are naked, they take some time to observe each other. Clearly, she is physically superior to him in every conceivable way. He is no match for her. Her huge, muscular body is a sight he will never forget. Her arms, shoulders, chest, back, legs, butt and abdomen are carved to perfection. An ancient Greek sculptor could not have created a more physically beautiful and dominant female form. She is the culmination of generations and generations of human biological development. She is the epitome of Woman. The world will never be able to appreciate her like he can.
“Thank you for giving me pleasure, my dear.”
“You’re welcome. I loved sucking on your beautiful clit. It’s so big, ma’am.”
“Yes, it’s very big. Very fucking big. Have you ever seen a clit that big before?” she asks. He shakes his head “no.” She smiles.
“I didn’t think so. Now, I’d like to return the favor and give you pleasure in the same way you gave me pleasure. Would you like that?” she inquires. He nods his head “yes.” Her gaze deepens. Is she looking into his soul?
“But before we do that,” she begins, walking toward the dresser drawer and opening it, “you have to do something for me first.”
He cranes his neck to see what she’s doing. She pulls a piece of cloth out of the drawer and closes it. She turns toward him and walks slowly, playing with the dark cloth in her hands.
“What is it?” he asks.
She comes to him and wraps the makeshift blindfold across his eyes. He gasps. She giggles. She tightens the black cloth around his head and kisses him passionately on the lips. The sudden kiss steals his breath. There is nothing he can do to stop whatever is about to happen next. She leans over and whispers this simple message into his ear:
You may have heard about it somewhere online. Maybe it was a chat forum. Perhaps it was on someone’s blog. Or maybe you read about it on Wikipedia or saw a documentary about it on YouTube.
Wherever you first heard of it, you probably have a lot of questions about it.
Who does this sort of thing? Why? What happens during it? How often does this happen? Who started it?
This topic would be “muscle worship.” You may have also heard about it referred to as a “session.” Regardless, you probably have a lot of questions about what happens during a muscle worship session, who does this sort of thing and why on Earth a female bodybuilder would want to offer these bizarre services.
Luckily for you, I’m about to enlighten you about what this is all about.
Muscle worship, essentially, is when a participant is allowed to touch, caress, fondle, rub and praise the muscles of a session provider. This is set up usually in a hotel room (for the sake of safety for both parties) for a set fee. The conditions of the session are arranged beforehand and agreed upon by both parties prior to the meeting.
Usually the muscle worship provider is a male or female bodybuilder, athlete, wrestler or someone who takes their lifting time at the gym seriously. Male bodybuilders can have female clients who are attracted to muscular men as well as gay male clients who love the same thing. Likewise, female bodybuilders can also host both male and female clients (although from what I’ve heard, most of their clients are men).
Because bodybuilding isn’t a very lucrative sport, many of these athletes need additional income to finance their lifestyle. Professional bodybuilders have to go through a lot to achieve their desired physique. It requires gym memberships (sometimes multiple gym memberships – depending on personal preference, availability of certain trainers and equipment, travel schedules and other living conditions), food, dietary supplements, drugs (though not everyone takes drugs), personal training fees, travel costs, marketing/advertising efforts and other expenses related to the business.
It should be obvious to anyone that professional bodybuilders lead an unorthodox life which requires taking unorthodox measures to fully live this life. Working part-time as a muscle worship provider is one of those measures.
Some bodybuilders travel from city to city to meet clients. Others just work locally. Many choose to never do these sessions at all. Everyone has to do what they got to do to survive. Popular bodybuilders often develop a following (that sometimes stretches internationally) of dedicated fans who schedule muscle worship sessions with them periodically. Sometimes returning clients whom the bodybuilders particularly like get discounts and “extra” services with each subsequent meeting.
Who wouldn’t want to touch the muscles of Fanny Palou?
Personally, so far I’ve participated in four muscle worship sessions with four different female bodybuilders. Three were travelling into town and one was local. To be honest, I don’t know a whole lot about male bodybuilders and the sessions they provide, so my perspective here is limited to the female side of things. What I can tell you is that for anyone out there who loves strong women and has a fervent interest in meeting one of them in an intimate setting, I highly recommend you seek out a female bodybuilder who is coming to your area and schedule a session with her whenever you get the chance.
The pricing varies. Some women charge as little as $200 for an hour-long session and as high as $600. A session could last 30 minutes if that is the most you are able to afford. Others could last three hours or even the whole day if you want to make this more of a “date” instead of a simple appointment. Payment usually happens in person and many experienced muscle worship providers will require a deposit wired electronically to their bank account in advance.
There are websites that list the travel schedules of female bodybuilders, including wb270.com and sessiongirls.com. Many times the women list their schedules directly on their personal websites or Facebook pages. Finding out who is coming to your town or who already lives in your town isn’t terribly difficult if you know where to search.
As far as what goes on during a session, as mentioned before the conditions of the session should be discussed and agreed upon ahead of time, preferably before the deposit is given. Usually an FBB will at the very minimum wear a posing suit or bikini. For an extra charge, many will be willing to be either topless or completely nude. Sometimes the FBB will ask you what you want her to wear – whether it’s lingerie, a bathing suit or her birthday suit.
Most of the time the session will take place at a hotel room. For the sake of her own personal safety, an FBB doesn’t want to make “home visits” out of fear of not knowing the person they’re doing this session with. I don’t need to tell you that there are a lot of creepy and dangerous people out there. A hotel room is private, “neutral” and it’s an environment she can control.
Let’s take my first ever muscle worship session as an example. I contacted her via e-mail after seeing she was travelling to my city on wb270.com. After exchanging several e-mails, we decided on a one hour fully nude muscle worship session. She informed me she was staying at a motel in my city (conveniently for me, it was only a few miles away from my apartment). She also agreed to give me a hand job at the end of the session. I paid her an $80 deposit through her PayPal account and was given her phone number so I could text her 15 or so minutes prior to the session to find out which room she was staying in.
The chiseled physique of Heather Armbrust.
Now, this is where things get, ahem, interesting. This is probably the one aspect about muscle worship that most people are curious to learn: What types of sexual activities happen during a session?
Let’s back up for a moment and address the elephant in the room:
Are muscle worship providers prostitutes?
It’s a valid question. On the surface, it does certainly seem like what an FBB does with her clients resembles prostitution. The clients are paying money for services that are very sensual in nature. Sometimes actual sexual activity is performed. To be fair, if muscle worship is considered a form of prostitution, it definitely deserves to be in a subcategory of its own. It’s so different from the stereotypical image we get of a prostitute visiting her “john” that “erotic session” seems to be a more accurate label.
Of course, there’s something to be said about the word “prostitution” unto itself. It’s a very politically and socially charged word that brings about many connotations; both positive and negative (though mostly negative). As a culture, we think of prostitution as a seedy, dirty business between loose whores and desperately lonely men. This is unfair in many cases. Now, I’m not about to go on some pro-prostitution rant, because I will admit I’m not really informed enough to make an intelligent analysis on the subject. What I will say is that muscle worship is in fact a form of prostitution. You can’t deny it from a dictionary definition perspective. It involves someone using their body for money to perform acts of a sexual nature. That fits the objective description of “prostitution” as far as I can tell.
But understandably, a lot of people will be uncomfortable with this classification. Both FBBs and the men (and women) who love them. Trust me, I’m one of them. I love strong women so very much. I admire them enough to have started this blog. I’m a big enough fan of them that I’ve paid a handsome portion of my hard-earned dollars toward arranging muscle worship sessions with them.
I completely understand the taboo nature of the word “prostitute.” I understand how stigmatized this phenomena is in our culture and other cultures. I understand how difficult it must be to work in a profession where people out there either hate you for it or are disgusted by you for willing to participate in it. I can empathize with those (both the clients and the providers) who feel ashamed to be a part of it.
I get that. I get that this is why most FBBs refuse to call themselves prostitutes and vehemently deny their services fall into that category. I’m willing to bet many FBBs wish they didn’t have to engage in these sorts of activities. Can you imagine how difficult it must be to travel across the country (and world) and be away from your friends and family for extended periods of time just so you can meet complete strangers under secretive circumstances? I’m sure many of these women hate doing sessions. I’m sure many of them would quit – or at the very least downsize their involvement – if they had the adequate financial resources available to them.
Oooooh, Amber Deluca getting frisky with Victoria Dominguez. Yikes!
Sadly, professional bodybuilding doesn’t make money. Only the elite competitors earn enough cash to call it a career. Endorsement deals, media exposure and prize money doesn’t exactly fall from the sky.
Of course, I can’t speak for all FBBs. I’m sure there are plenty out there who genuinely love doing sessions and meeting their clients. I’m sure there are lots of session providers who are proud of their work and are not ashamed of their on-the-side profession. But for those who are, or at least hold a certain degree of reservation for what they’re doing, I get why the label “prostitute” can hurt so much.
The woman I met for my first ever session is a mother whose daughter is only a few years younger than me. I met another who is married and another who has a long-term boyfriend back home. Can you imagine if you Googled your mother’s name and labels such as “whore,” “slut” and “skank” prominently came up? I’d be embarrassed beyond belief. Can you imagine being a husband and having to cope with the idea of your beloved wife pleasuring other men a whole ocean away from you? I can’t wrap my mind around that.
But I don’t want to get too melodramatic. I just thought it was appropriate to address the question many of you might be asking. Personally, when I had my four sessions, I never for one moment thought of the women I was meeting as prostitutes. I treated them kindly and with deep respect. I treated them like human beings, not living breathing sex toys. Of course, I’d treat a traditional prostitute the same way, but it never crossed my mind to treat these ladies as if they were any different from anybody else.
If anything, I treated them with more respect. I respect them for doing what they love regardless of the consequences. I respect them for doing something so socially unconventional and for enduring the weird stares, hurtful comments and awkward relationships it must create. If this is what they love doing, who cares what other people think? What others think about you is inconsequential.
But returning to the original question, what types of activities (both sexual and nonsexual) are offered during a muscle worship session? The possibilities are wide in range. This list is by no means complete or exhaustive:
Muscle worship
Wrestling (both competitive, semi-competitive and fantasy)
Role playing
Posing
Domination and submission
Lift and carry
Arm wrestling
Scissor holds
Face sitting, belly punching, boxing, smothering and other grappling/competitive activities
Fetish scenarios
BDSM activities (Bondage, Discipline, Sadism and Masochism)
Oiling
Sensual massage
Sexual acts (blow jobs, cunnilingus, hand jobs, dry humping, kissing and vaginal sex)
Typically, the furthest sexual activity an FBB will allow is giving her client a hand job at the end (also known as a “happy ending” for those of you unfamiliar with the euphemism). Anything beyond that either is never on the table or comes at a very steep cost. Sometimes actual sex (or “full service”) is only reserved for repeat customers because the FBB knows the person and presumably feels comfortable around them.
Many times, no sexual activity is allowed. Not everyone is willing to go that far. Nor should any session provider feel like they have to in order to stay “in business.” As with anything, whatever is mutually agreed upon prior to the session is fair game.
But the real reason why clients seek out these sessions is for the muscle worship aspect. Let’s discuss this a little bit more.
“Worship” isn’t necessarily to be interpreted literally. A client won’t deify the muscles of the session provider as if they were God or Allah incarnate. It’s “worship” in a more sensual, playful way. The men who participate in these sessions obviously share a fetish for female muscle. Just look up the words “sthenolagnia” and “cratolagnia” if you need a refresher.
A very erotic lady is Yvette Bova.
Let’s put it this way: Strong women with big muscles are rare. Not everyone’s wife or girlfriend possesses the ripped, bulging muscles of Alina Popa. Not every lady out there can sport a chiseled physique like Victoria Dominguez. Women who look like Lisa Cross, Lauren Powers and Yvette Bova mostly exist in our wildest dreams.
So, the only way men can live out their fantasies is to participate in these sessions. Watching videos on the Internet or chatting with an FBB through her webcam only goes so far. Sometimes you need to experience the “real thing.” And muscle worship sessions are about as real as you can get.
“Worship” usually means feeling her body and touching her muscles to your heart’s delight. Sometimes you might pretend to worship her as if she was an actual Goddess, but role-playing isn’t always a factor here. The client may heap endless verbal praise onto her. He may treat her like a divine figure. But mostly, he just wants to feel those big beautiful muscles in his hands. He wants the tactile experience of being able to engage in his personal fetishistic fantasies.
Fetishism is really what this all boils down to. A fetish is defined as “any object or nongenital part of the body that causes a habitual erotic response or fixation.” These men fetishize the muscles of these women. It’s as simple as that. For whatever reason – her strength, muscles, bulk, size and power really turns you on. It turns you on to the point that you must experience it for yourself up close and personal even if it comes at a significant financial cost. But for anyone with a strong fetish for something, it’s worth every penny.
In a strange way, a muscle worship session is nothing more than a business transaction. You are paying someone for particular services. These services are usually done tax-free (meaning the government and the IRS will have no knowledge that these sorts of shenanigans are happening), but business is business no matter how it transpires. Everyone has to do what they got to do to get by, am I right?
After a session comes to an end, the client will try to leave the venue as discreetly as possible. If the hotel staff gets suspicious that possible illegal activity is happening at their establishment, the FBB could get in trouble. No one wants that to happen. So in light of that, here is a list of important protocol every client should keep in mind when setting up a muscle worship session:
Be discreet: Because of the awkward nature of these sessions, it is important that everyone respects the privacy and anonymity of the other person. Would you want your boss or grandmother to know that you paid a woman $350 to touch her body? Yeah, probably not! So keep in mind the importance of not leaving a paper trail or compromising her identity if she wishes to remain inconspicuous. She may have kids, parents, relatives, co-workers, church friends and neighbors from whom she wants to keep her extracurricular activities a secret. This is why both parties must be discreet.
Be respectful of each other’s boundaries: Make sure you agree on everything that is to happen at this muscle worship session beforehand. Never assume what’s on the table and what’s not. She may not want to do certain things with you. Respect those boundaries and don’t push your luck. Never do anything drastic before requesting permission. In fact, when in doubt, ask her. Ask her what you want from her. Ask her what is okay and what isn’t. This way, there won’t be any ambiguity going on. Preferably, ask her ahead of time so you can prevent being disappointed after the session ends.
Keep open lines of communication flowing: In addition to always asking for what you want, make sure you maintain an open line of communication so you don’t get important details like hotel information or payment policies mixed up. You never want miscommunication to ruin your session. Remember, she has a stake in this too. She doesn’t want to disappoint. Help her help you.
Treat her like a lady: Don’t treat her like a piece of meat whose only purpose is to serve your every whim. Don’t be a jerk. Respect her just as you would show respect to your mother. Treat her like a lady. She’s risking quite a lot to offer these sessions. She’s making sacrifices that deep down inside she might not want to make. So make it worth her while. Don’t demonstrate douchebag behavior. No one wants any of that nonsense.
Don’t flake out: Yes, unexpected scheduling conflicts do occasionally happen. But don’t ever flake out on an appointment. These women travel thousands of miles to come to your city. Don’t promise her you’d show up for your 5:00 p.m. appointment only for you to completely blow her off. The cost of flying from airport to airport and booking hotel rooms is really expensive. Don’t flake out unless you have a very good excuse. And if you do, please e-mail, call or text her if something unexpected does unfortunately come up.
Tell her what you want so that you can have the best session experience possible: In case you need a reminder, she wants to give you a good time. Very rarely does a session provider not care if you have a splendid time or not. They want to fulfill your fantasies and have you begging for more. This is good for business and ensures she can make a handsome buck in the process. This goes along the lines of constantly communicating with each other. Talk to her about what will make your experience the best it can be. Don’t shy away from the moment. Live a little!
After a session is over, many guys will write reviews on popular websites like saradas.org. Some FBBs might appreciate you sending them kind e-mails afterward so that she can post them on her website or on session directories. As always, if the FBB chooses to use a fake name, don’t “out” her on the Internet. That’s a big no-no. Anything written on a chat forum or blog can be read by millions of people. Don’t be “that guy.” If she doesn’t want her true identity revealed, don’t reveal it!
Even if you don’t know for sure if she doesn’t want her identity revealed, be on the safe side and keep things under wraps. After all, these sessions are very private in nature and should remain private. There’s no need for the entire world to know what happened during that one hour in that hotel room. You know…what happens in Vegas…
If everything turns out well and a year or two later she returns back to your city, you can set up another session with her! And who knows? She may decide to offer a little “extra” for her faithful clients.
My new female muscle crush: Lindsay Mulinazzi.
Or she may not offer anything extra. Never feel entitled to anything other than what you two agree upon beforehand. Make sure she consents to everything. Never assume anything. Never leave anything unspoken that should be brought to light.
In other words, use common sense. That can’t be too hard, hm?
Whew. That’s a lot to cover. And I never even got into things like wrestling or BDSM. I’ve personally never done those sorts of things before, so my expertise on these subjects is admittedly limited. What I am reasonably knowledgeable about is traditional muscle worship. Trust me, it’s a very glorious world once you get into it!
Muscle worship is fun. It’s meant to be fun. It’s erotic fun, but it’s fun nevertheless. So have fun when you do it. Come with a smile. Prepare to enjoy yourself. Yes, it’ll be nerve-wracking right before it starts, but once things get going the butterflies in your stomach will go away.
I will admit that this article isn’t exhaustive about describing the world of female muscle worship sessions. Generally speaking, people will use the acronym “YMMV” to describe their experiences. This stands for “your mileage may vary.” This means every session provider is different and will be different depending on who you are and what you ask for. I can’t give you hard and fast rules. You have to see for yourself.
One last note before I end this lengthy article. As strange, odd, weird, peculiar, atypical and controversial as the concept of muscle worship may appear, at the end of the day there’s really nothing bizarre about it. Some men find muscular women attractive. Because muscular women are rare in our society, the only way for these men to enjoy this particular fetish is to engage in these sessions. That’s all there is to it. Certainly, these sessions are unorthodox in nature, but the reasons they happen are very simple.
Can I measure the beautiful biceps of Gina Davis?
We have interests and needs that we want fulfilled. If there are people out there who are willing to fulfill these needs, what’s the harm? No one is being forced to do this. Everyone on planet Earth has needs. You can’t escape that fact. So don’t think of muscle worship as being dirty, exploitative, deviant or immoral. It’s a simple business transaction between two consenting adults.
Yes, this transaction is erotic in nature, but that shouldn’t muddy the waters. Eroticism can be a beautiful thing. No one should be punished for living out their fantasies as long as no one gets hurt in the process. Hopefully there won’t be too much disagreement over this notion.
So there you have it. Everything (or mostly everything!) you wanted to know about muscle worship but were afraid to ask. This is just a starter. A primer. A summary. There is a whole world out there that even I am not totally familiar with. I am no expert. I’m just someone who operates a humble blog out here in the WordPress blogosphere.
Try for yourself what muscle worship is like if you’re truly curious. And guess what? You might be able to answer all these questions on your own!
Muscle beauty Flavia Crisos. As you know, none of the women featured in this post is GFBB. Her identity will always remain a secret.
The moment I realize I had forgotten to take a picture of her, I quickly shoot GFBB a text asking her if she’d be willing to send me a photo of herself.
Thoughts started to flood through my mind: Is this a creepy request? Would she be afraid I’d post this on Facebook or somewhere else and people would see it? Is she protective over her image and would refuse? Would she interpret this request as me bothering her (and perhaps becoming obsessed with her)? Will she think I’m being creepy?
Time passes. I hear nothing from her for a long time. Maybe she’s going to sleep. Maybe she’s ignoring me. Maybe I crossed a line by sending her this text…
Finally, GFBB responds. She says she fell asleep before I texted her. Ah ha! This is her exact message:
Sorry fell asleep . I will send u a pic and its not creepy But that’s because it’s u asking
Whew! That solves that mystery. I knew we developed a positively rapport. I guess all my fretting was all for naught.
So off to bed I went. I brushed my teeth, took a shower, checked my email one more time and finally crashed into a peaceful slumber. Ah, bliss. My life resumed as normal afterward. I went to work the next day. That evening, GFBB sends me a text at 8:19 p.m. PST with the photo I had requested. It appears to have been taken at a hotel room (perhaps by one of her clients). It wasn’t the highest quality picture, but since receiving it I’ve treasured it as it were a precious family heirloom.
Lovely biceps of Zoa Linsey.
If I’m bored and have nothing else to do (usually when I’m at the train station waiting to get home from work), I’ll occasionally get out my phone and look at her photo. Then all the memories of our 75 minutes together would start flooding back.
Sentimental value, perhaps? Yeah, without a doubt!
All joking aside, life went on as it always did. I enjoyed a restful weekend. And come Monday, it was back to the normal grind. No more female bodybuilders, muscle worship sessions or playful text conversations with strong beautiful women for me for a while. I had my fun. Now it was time to see what came next.
Life can be full of unexpected adventures, n’est-ce pas?
***
So now I take you to the present day. At the time of this blog post’s publication, it is May 23, 2014. My fateful session (or is it “appointment?”) with GFBB was on May 23, 2013. Exactly one year ago today.
Wow. One year ago when I had my session with GFBB. While it does feel like a year ago, it’s funny how certain specific moments – even the trivial ones – are as sharp in my memory as ever before.
The first time I looked at her. When we sat down to chat. When the session finally started. When I got to kiss her. When she sent me the text with her photo attached to it.
I can remember the exact spot where I was when I opened that text. It’s funny how innocuous details like that stay with you forever after everything else more “important” passes on. Perhaps this is our brain’s way of telling us what’s really important in our lives.
Asian muscle Goddess Kiana Phi.
Have I changed at all as a person as a result of this amazing muscle worship session with an equally amazing lady? The truth is, not really. I have changed a bit, but perhaps not as dramatically as I’d like to think. It is true that I’ve become bolder in pursuing adventures and opportunities that benefit me. It is true that I’ve had muscle worship sessions with three other FBBs (while I’ve enjoyed all of them, GFBB still holds a special place in my heart). It is true that my eyes have been opened to a whole other world I never knew before.
But, at the end of the day, I’m still the same person I was the moment before I knocked on her hotel door 365 days ago. In the past year, I’ve never returned to the parking lot of the hotel we met at; even though it’s a mere five minutes away from my apartment. There’s something special about your “first time” that you want to remain special. It wouldn’t feel right to return back there, even for sentimental purposes.
Speaking of sentimentality, that’s probably how I’ll always remember the 75 greatest minutes of my life. Was it truly the greatest hour and fifteen minutes of my time here on Earth? Eh, who knows…but that’s not the point. My feelings, thoughts and unorthodox “friendship” I developed with GFBB will always be a sweet dream that I’ll recount for many years moving forward. That’s valuable unto itself.
I’m still a fairly shy person. I still haven’t had much luck when it comes to women and romance. I’m still looking for full-time employment, although I’m reasonably getting by just fine working at two part-time jobs.
Who wouldn’t want to touch the muscles of Monica Martin?
I’m still Ryan Takahashi. That part hasn’t changed. I’m still me.
But, I’m not the same person I was leading up to 7 p.m. on 5/23/2013. Yes, I realize I’m contradicting myself, but bear with me for a moment. I may still be myself, but something tangibly is different. My muscle worship session with GFBB was, to be honest, one of the first times I’d ever done anything really selfish in my whole life. I paid $360 on something that was purely for me…and nobody else.
It was selfish. It was hedonistic. It was a “treat” I gave myself as a reward for being…well, me.
I deserve the opportunity to express my sexuality, aren’t I? I’m allowed to touch the beautiful muscles of a strong, gorgeous woman if we both consent to the circumstances? Of course!
Later on I will write a blog post exclusively about the concept of muscle worship itself, so I will delve further into this particular social phenomenon at a later date. But for this Epilogue, all I can say is this:
I love female muscle. I love strong women. And I can honestly say that reality definitely matches up with fantasy when it comes to experiencing female muscle up close and personal.
The incomparable Elena Oana Hreapca.
GFBB is a great lady. We briefly exchanged emails months later when she randomly discovered my blog and asked me about it (“Guilty as charged!”). But that’s the extent of our post-session communication. We’ve never spoken again. She hasn’t come back to Seattle since. I don’t know if I’ll ever get a chance to see her again.
If I do, great. If I don’t, well, that’s the way things are. No one ever knows how life will sort itself out. Perhaps our paths will cross again. Or perhaps not. But regardless, I’ll always have my memories. Sweet, sweet memories:
The giddiness of emailing with her.
The nervousness I felt during the week leading up to my session.
The anticipation of waiting in the parking lot.
The deep breath I took before I knocked on her door.
My heart stopping when I first laid eyes on her.
The pleasantness of chatting with her and getting to know her.
The awkwardness of getting started with the session.
The sensual pleasure I experienced during those 75 minutes.
The elation I felt immediately after our session came to a close.
The romanticized maudlin feelings I feel whenever I look at that grainy cell phone picture of her.
All of it. I love reflecting on all of it. I don’t think any future muscle worship session will ever come close to surpassing what I experienced one year ago today. That’s not a negative reflection on all the other FBB out there. No, instead it’s a reflection on my magical “first time” and how that experience can never be replicated. Nor should it ever be replicated. The fact it’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience makes it that much sweeter.
If I had to summarize the whole experience in one single word, it would be this:
GFBB reached for a bottle of baby oil on a bedside table and dabbed a small amount on the palm of her hand. Lubricating her fingers, I eagerly anticipated the finale to this incredible muscle worship appointment.
Take a deep breath, I tell myself. This is going to be your first time receiving a sexual service from a woman. And not just any woman, but an absolutely gorgeous female bodybuilder whose beauty, sexiness and smarts turn me on like nothing else.
For those of you who don’t know, my sexual history isn’t terribly detailed. I’m a pretty quiet and meek kind of guy. While I don’t consider myself shy around women, connecting with people doesn’t come easy to me. This goes for people in general, but attractive ladies in particular. Am I trying to fix this? Of course I am. But easier said than done, n’est-ce pas?
Still, my manhood isn’t erect yet. Despite the obvious sexual circumstances – me alone with a gorgeous naked woman in a hotel room – I’m feeling more nervous than aroused. This worried me a bit. What if I can’t produce an erection? What if, despite my years and years of experience masturbating and producing erections at will, I fail at the worst possible moment? Let’s face it. Opportunities like this don’t come around too often!
This causes a flood of insecurities to come crashing down upon me. Strangely enough, GFBB must have noticed my awkwardness because she flashed me a compassionate smile after putting the bottle of baby oil back on the table. Did she see fear in my eyes? Did I give off an anxiety-ridden vibe that’s impossible not to notice?
“Can I kiss you?” I ask GFBB. It was an honest question.
“Yes, you can kiss me.”
The absolutely gorgeous Angela Rayburn.
I lean over and kiss her on the lips. Her lips are sweet, warm and loving. I’m not sure if she’s usually cool with kissing her clients, but I appreciate her willingness to let me indulge a bit. Kissing random strangers is an easy way to get sick so I would not have been surprised if she said “no.” But…she didn’t say no. She said yes!
And how sweet did she taste. Yummy!
We lay on our sides – me on the right side of the bed, GFBB on the left – and came closer together. The scene resembled a couple engaging in foreplay before making love. While that’s not what was going on, in my imagination I can think whatever I want, right?
I stared into her eyes. She slowly reached down and began to stroke my penis. Still soft and small, I tried to make a joke to ease my tension.
“You’d be surprised. It’s not as easy to produce an erection as you’d think.”
She nodded in agreement. She continued to stroke, her lubricated fingers massaging my manhood in an up and down motion. I felt a slight tingle of sensation rising up from my pelvis.
“Can I ask you something?” I innocently asked.
“Go ahead.”
“Have you heard the stereotype about Asian men and their penises?”
She knew where I was going with this.
“You mean…”
“The stereotype that Asian guys are small down there?”
“Honey, here’s what I have to say about that. When you’re in a relationship with a woman, she won’t care. There’s nothing wrong with that. Don’t worry about a thing.”
I sure hope she’s right. But come to think of it, this is neither the time nor the place for me to air out my insecurities. GFBB is a female bodybuilder, not a therapist!
Toni West is so strong, muscular, beautiful and feminine. A perfect combination.
As her fingers resumed their caressing touch, getting that confession off my chest must have done wonders because almost immediately my penis becomes fully erect. Was I having performance anxiety? Probably not, but I felt the need to keep a conversation going in order to calm me down.
My manhood fully engorged, the initial tingling of orgasm began. Her fingers wrapped around my penis with authority, not rushing to bring me to climax but urgent enough to give me a remarkably pleasurable experience. I leaned over and kissed her on the lips, cheek and neck. She may have kissed me back, but I was on a different planet by now. In this moment, I felt like we were Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden – two perfect, innocent creations experiencing sexual pleasure for the first time.
Of course, I knew GFBB was not new to performing sex acts. As a mother and middle aged woman, she’s had her fair share of erotic life experiences. But not me. I was the newbie, a stranger to a strange game. I tried to focus on the moment and take it all in.
No one can match Gina Davis.
As I kissed her cheek, lingering on tasting her essence and smelling her feminine fragrance, I knew I was about to come. Her fingers were stroking me more earnestly. Electricity was surging through every nerve ending of my body. My erection became harder, anticipating a satisfying climax. The coolness of the baby oil rubbing against my sensitive skin, satiating my every desire, added to the eroticism.
I tried to whisper something in her ear, but could not bring myself to saying anything. Would it be weird to confess my love for a woman I’ve only known for a little more than an hour? Would she think I’m peculiar for doing so? Or would she understand this is purely something done in the heat of the moment, an irrational act committed by an otherwise rational being?
Before I could whisper anything, I felt a surge of pleasure rising and bursting forth out of my manhood. I knew this was it. The time is now.
I came hard, spurting all over my belly and chest. Her fingers stopped massaging me and she watched as I covered myself with my own seed. I let out a deep sigh. GFBB gave me pleasure I will always remember. For all the time we spent talking philosophy and politics, this moment was the culmination of our shared time together. Frozen in time, perhaps? I have no doubt about it.
A legend in her own right, Lenda Murray.
Eventually, my mind came back down to Earth and I left whatever dreamy metaphysical state it was previously in. GFBB got up from the bed and went to the bathroom to fetch a towel.
“You came quite a bit,” she remarked, evidently impressed with how much semen I released. I looked down at myself and was equally impressed. Quite a lot of warm white liquid lying across my torso!
She returned with a towel and I wiped myself off. She offered me the chance to take a shower. I obliged and hopped into the shower to quickly rinse off before leaving. My mind raced at a million miles per minute during that short shower, still basking in the glory of receiving a hand job from a very sexy, intelligent and strong woman.
I’m not too familiar with Nena Cortes, but I’d sure like to learn more about her!
After I dried myself off and dressed, I came back into the room and saw GFBB had put back on her tight blue dress. She was watching TV. Some dreadful highway accident was being covered in the news. I gathered my things and decided it was time to give her the bottle of wine.
I went over to my backpack and took it out.
“I brought a gift for you.”
I hand it to her and she smiles widely.
“Why, thank you! That is very kind. Thanks!”
“This is my way of saying thank you. I had a lovely time.”
We briefly chatted about whatever was happening on the television. Eventually I put on my shoes and socks with my backpack slung over my shoulder. Whew. I knew this was it. It was time to say good bye for good. God knows if I’ll ever have the chance to see her again. GFBB lives in Texas and she tells me this will be her last year doing “appointments.” She’s ready to settle down and quit traveling the world to see guys like me. Hey, that’s her prerogative. She has every right to decide for herself when it’s time to hang up the cleats.
I guess my earlier analogy about meeting a fading sports superstar had some truth to it. GFBB was, in a way, “retiring.” Not from bodybuilding necessarily, but from bringing her show on the road and offering these unique services to her fans. If she indeed will call it a career, then I jumped on this opportunity at the right time. That’s fantastic luck on my part!
We stand in front of each other. I thanked her again for the lovely session. It must have been well past one hour since I first came into this room. At least 75 minutes, I’d estimate.
“One more kiss for the road?”
She nods and we share one last kiss. It was sweeter than any other kiss I’ve ever received. We hugged, said our “goodbyes” and I opened the door to leave.
“Have a good night!” she tells me as I walk out into the dimly lit hallway.
“Good night. Bye, bye!”
I close the door behind me and quickly shuffle toward the main lobby. I kept my head down, scurrying in the direction of the exit so none of the hotel staff would have time to think about who I am and what business I had being here. But, to be honest, what other people were thinking had no bearing on my own thoughts. I could only think about myself and GFBB.
The Italian Muscle Goddess Mavi Gioia.
Yikes. Wow. What did I just experience?
Everything was so surreal. Did that really happen? The past 75 minutes were all a blur. I felt like I had an out-of-body experience that seemed real but wasn’t. Like “Inception,” perhaps my appointment with GFBB was nothing more than a fabricated dream that I convinced myself was real.
As I left the hotel and headed back to my car, the rational side of me knew this wouldn’t change anything about my life. I’m in no way shape or form a “new” person for having gone through this spectacular experience. I’m the same person right now as I was minutes before walking into that hotel lobby.
But, there was a part of me that knew that something, however miniscule and incremental, had indeed changed. I might come out of this bolder. I’ve always been moderately cautious throughout my life – this could be a step in a different direction. This might not be a new chapter in my life, but certainly a new page. GFBB didn’t change me. I changed myself. She was my incentive for getting out of my box and trying something new. But not just something new, but something selfish.
I try not to be selfish. I try to be as helpful, accommodating and frugal as I can. My muscle worship session with GFBB completely reversed that tendency. This was 75 minutes of me acting upon my lusts, my carnal desires, my sexual curiosities. This was me doing something purely for me and no one else. I benefitted from this experience alone (except for GFBB, who was a couple hundred dollars richer). This was “me” time.
Could this be the start of a reformed outlook on life? Will I start to live life to the fullest? Will I begin to, perhaps in minor ways, live life more selfishly? There’s nothing wrong with rewarding yourself every once in a while. This evening was my chance to reward myself. This was my chance to take hold of a unique situation and run away with it unashamedly.
GFBB earlier asked me what my mother would think if she knew I was in this hotel room with her. I told her she would probably be shocked. But what would she be more shocked at; the circumstances of the situation (paying a muscular woman to let me touch her body) or the fact that I took the initiative and sought out this opportunity to begin with?
I have no idea. I’ll probably never find out.
Lora Ottenad is not only pretty and strong, but she’s local! (at least, for me)
So this is why this muscle worship session was the 75 greatest minutes of my life. Do I mean that in a literal sense? Of course not. That’s hyperbole. What I really mean is that this past hour+ could very well change the way I live my life – what jobs I choose to work at, how I spend my free time, how I relate with my family, who I choose to be friends with and what I plan to do with my life.
I know this is crazy. I know this evening will not define me. But I couldn’t help but wonder but this, even months later after the fact. The drive back to my apartment was interrupted by a stop off at Subway to grab a sandwich for dinner. It was approaching 8 p.m. and it was getting dark outside. The sun was fading fast, perhaps a symbolic commentary of the situation.
I returned home, turned on my computer, watched some old clips of “Whose Line is it Anyway?” on YouTube and ate my sandwich in peace. I was at peace. My heart stopped pounding nonstop. My blood pressure returned to normal. All the anticipation and anxiety I felt in the minutes leading up to knocking on GFBB’s hotel door was completely gone. I was at my natural emotional state, albeit whatever philosophical thoughts I had churning through my mind at rapid fire.
When I was done eating, all I could do was lie on my bed and ponder in complete silence. The silence was deafening, yet peaceful at the same time. No distractions. Nothing to stop these wild thoughts racing through me.
But something did eventually break my contemplation. I suddenly remembered something I forgot to ask GFBB before leaving her room.
I immediately obliged, closing the door gently behind me. I looked around and saw the room was dimly lit. Music played from an iPod in the background. It was some pop song that I can’t recall at the moment.
GFBB looked great, but different than I expected. But to be truthful, I had no idea what to expect. Would she be as hard and muscular as she was in her competition days? Or would she be a shadow of her former self, perhaps maybe slightly overweight?
My questions were answered the moment I laid eyes on her.
She wore a tight blue dress that left very little to the imagination. Proudly showing off her ample bosom and allowing her legs plenty of room to breathe, she looked beautiful. Simply beautiful.
Her body was curvy and toned, not ripped or hypermuscular as a competitive bodybuilder (I might have just invented the word ‘hypermuscular”). She was a few inches shorter than me, 5’4” as it indicates in her biography on AMG-Lite. She was bountiful in many parts of her body; including her chest, back, legs and arms. She looked like a woman who took care of herself at the gym, though not necessarily in the obsessive-compulsive manner of a professional bodybuilder. Her figure would definitely turn heads – not in an “Oh my God she’s so freakish” kind of way, but rather in a “Wow, she looks great!” sort of way.
Let me pause momentarily. Usually, guys who regularly schedule sessions with FBBs would be disappointed by this. Some folks truly expect their FBBs to look ripped, huge and ready to compete in the Ms. Olympia contest. Clearly, GFBB did not fit in this category. But I didn’t mind at all. While her figure wasn’t exceptionally muscular, she still looked beautiful nevertheless. I had nothing to complain about.
Asian Muscle Goddess Brenda Raganot.
If I can make an analogy, it would be like this: Imagine meeting your favorite baseball or basketball player for the first time. You ask for his autograph or for him to take a picture with you. Now imagine you grew up rooting for this player and you consider him to be your childhood hero. A legend from your youth. Now imagine you’re meeting this famous athlete later in his career. He’s not nearly as great as he once was and his production on the field/court isn’t nearly up to the standards he held himself to when he was in the prime of his career. Regardless, you still feel amazed to meet your childhood hero up close. Yes, you realize he’s past his prime, but you still respect him and his body of work. You still feel giddy inside when you shake his hand and he gives you his signed jersey.
Meeting GFBB was sort of like that. I knew she wouldn’t look like she did when she was in the prime of her bodybuilding career, but that didn’t bother me one bit. Meeting her was still a great honor and a memory I will cherish for the rest of my life. Was I disheartened when I saw she didn’t have the bulging muscles that I’ve seen in countless photos and videos?
Hell no!
Returning to my adventure, she led me inside and told me to get comfortable. I took off my shoes and put my backpack next to a chair. We sat down. I sat on a comfortable chair and she sat on the bed. I could not stop staring at her legs! (Confession: I’m a leg guy) She sat cross legged to hide whatever was happening between her gorgeous thighs. I felt my manhood start to rumble. God, I can’t believe I’m actually going through with this!
More Sheila Bleck. Yowza!
The first thing we did was introduce each other. Though she didn’t ask for it, I gave her the envelop full of money to complete my financial obligation to her. She graciously accepted it. We both sat down again.
GFBB and I proceeded to have a fairly long conversation about many different topics. I asked her about her bodybuilding career and how she feels about traveling around the world and offering sessions to paying customers. Then we talked about traveling in general. We spoke about our world travels and some of our shared experiences of being a foreigner in a far off land. We talked about our jobs, our families, politics, the difference between our generations and some fairly deep philosophical topics.
Gee, I did not expect our conversation to go like this! She’s a pretty smart cookie.
After talking for about fifteen minutes, our conversation found a natural conclusion and we both knew it. It was time to begin this thing. She broke the ice by asking this simple question:
“Do you like strong women?”
Do I? Um, yes!
I got the sense she wanted to talk with me just to ease my nerves. She knew this is my first ever session and that I’m a complete newbie to this whole process. She even jokingly asked me how my mother would feel if she found out her son was in a hotel room with a strange, mostly naked woman. I told her she would probably be shocked and a bit disappointed.
Come to think of it, I have no idea what my mother would think about this. That’s probably something I don’t want to ever find out.
Amber Deluca exudes uncontained sexiness.
She suggested that she give me a back rub first. Alright, no problem!
I took off my shirt, shoes, socks and pants and lay down on the bed face down wearing only my underwear and a nervous smile. I still could not believe this was happening. But here I was, about to receive a back massage from a strong, beautiful intelligent woman.
Her hands pressed deep into my back, relaxing me beyond what I expected was possible. She commented on how I have a “swimmer’s body,” which I suppose means lean, angular and v-shaped. I took this as a supreme compliment. She obviously has met her share of muscular men in her life. I can take pride that she even found a reason to comment on my figure!
After I was sufficiently relaxed, she proceeded to take off her dress. I tried to turn around to steal a peek, but she playfully tapped me on the face to scold me.
“No peeking!” she says.
Oh, how I love this woman!
I, being a good boy, turned my head away so she could denude without my eyes wandering in her direction. I knew she was topless when I felt her large, plump breasts rubbing against my back. GFBB slowly caressed her breasts across my back side, starting on my butt and ending to almost my neckline. God, that felt good! Feeling the points of her nipples poke my skin accentuated the entire experience.
Very erotic, indeed.
Eventually she allows me to turn me around, upon which I lay on my back only to look up upon one of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever laid eyes on. Her pretty face smiling at me, GFBB’s ample bosom impeccably complemented her toned, curvaceous figure. Her strong hands stroked my arms and shoulders. If Heaven exists, I think angels would look like her.
Shy and unsure about what to do next, she guided my hands to feel her breasts. Wow! Unbelievable! Warm, abundant and plump, her breasts gave off a more maternal vibe rather than sexual. She says they’re implants, which makes sense considering how much bodybuilding rescinds the fatty tissue women have in their mammary glands.
The angelic Charmaine Patterson.
We both sat up and she began to “pose” for me. Flexing her arms, I felt her hard biceps welcoming me. Do I like strong women? I think my answer is definitely a resounding “yes!”
I greedily felt her muscles with a mixture of awe and hesitation. Where can I touch her? How does she feel about me touching her body like a horny school boy? She’s obviously used to this sort of thing, but I still didn’t want to treat her like a prostitute. She’s not a prostitute, even though the services she’s offering and the circumstances surrounding our meeting would suggest such a role.
Let me be clear. GFBB is not a prostitute. Not even close.
These thoughts flooded through my mind as I felt up her legs, feet, butt (she still had panties on), back, abdomen, arms and shoulders. Was I disappointed that her muscles weren’t bulgier and more defined? Not one bit.
“What about if I give you a back rub instead?” I suggested.
“Okay. Let’s try that,” she responds.
Now it was GFBB’s turn to get on her stomach and receive a relaxing back rub. Admiring her thick core, I thoroughly enjoyed making her feel like I appreciated everything she’s doing for me. I wonder how often guys who see her return the favor instead of always being on the receiving end. I wanted to show her that I’m a giving person.
We then got on the subject of talking about her career offering sessions to guys like me and how she feels about it. She tells me she doesn’t mind doing things like this, but she hates the word “session.”
“I prefer to call this an appointment,” she tells me.
I agree “session” doesn’t sound right. “Appointment” seems to be a more dignified way of describing muscle worship services. I agree with her completely.
Fanny Palou is perfect.
Eventually I ask her about some of the weirdest “appointments” she’s ever had. She told me about one time when a married couple, a man and a woman, asked her to participate in a threesome. The man got aroused by his wife choking him nearly to the point of total asphyxiation. She found that disturbing.
I would too. Yikes.
I continued to rub her back. Feeling her trapezius muscles and listening to her retell stories, I realized I love the way her deep, gravelly voice sounds. There’s something sexy about a woman with a deep voice; very authoritative yet undeniably feminine.
GFBB’s skin was warm and firm. Her musky smell turned me on even more. I don’t consider smell to be a strong sense of mine. I don’t normally associate memories with smell. This evening might change all that. This evening will perhaps change many things about me.
I briefly looked at the bedside clock and saw nearly 50 minutes had passed so far. Gee, time sure flies when you’re having fun! She tells me I’m her last client of the evening. So I suppose that means she isn’t “clock watching” to make sure I get only an hour. I get the sense she wants to take her time with me. For that I am thankful.
We turned the discussion toward the subject of BDSM, the novel “50 Shades of Grey” and how muscle worship fits into all that. I told her BDSM isn’t my thing. She said that’s fine. We both agreed that “to each, his own.” GFBB offered to give me a brief taste of what she usually does with her clients. I got on my back and she wrapped her strong legs around my neck. She demonstrated what a “scissor lock” feels like. Some guys get aroused by a strong woman wrestling him into submission. A scissor hold is a common move. She squeezed, though not particularly hard, and asked me if I liked it.
“Honestly, I’m a little uncomfortable by this.”
She released her powerful thighs and let me sit up. Wow. Those are some dynamic pair of legs!
“It’s strange,” she began. “The guys who want to wrestle with me feel like they have something to prove. But prove what?”
Who wouldn’t want Anne Freitas to wrap her strong, powerful legs around them?
I imagine there are insecure men out there who feel like “winning” a wrestling match with a female bodybuilder would be a great personal victory. In a strange sort of way, I kind of understand why, even though I don’t feel the same. All I can say is that I don’t need to “prove” anything to anyone, let alone a beautiful lady like GFBB.
I looked at the clock again. Almost an hour has passed. From the time I knocked on the door to the present moment, it’s been an hour. I think we both know what comes next.
“May I use the bathroom?” I ask.
“Of course.” She laughs.
I go into the bathroom and pee. I didn’t really have to pee that badly, but I figure if I’m about to receive a “happy ending” I should be as comfortable as possible. I’ve never done anything like this before so I want my first time to be special.
I come out of the bathroom and see GFBB has taken off her panties. She is completely naked. As nude as the day she was born. She stood over her iPod and fiddled with it. She asked me if I knew how to work this. Her iPod was playing the same song over and over again (I hadn’t noticed) and she wanted it to move on to the next song. I told her I had no idea why it was doing that. I gave her a playful spank on her bare butt. She giggled.
We got back on the bed after I removed my underwear. Both of us completely nude, we felt up each other’s bodies once more. Amazingly, my penis wasn’t hard yet, but I sure hope it will be soon. I looked down at her vagina and saw she shaved her pubic hair down to a fine thin strip. Very hot. Her firm, round butt was majestic. God, this woman is beautiful beyond words!
More Yvette Bova is never a bad thing.
We looked into each other’s eyes and knew what was about to happen next. She promised a hand job at the end of our appointment. This moment could not have been more surreal. Imagine for a moment: Here I am, a meek Asian dude from Seattle, about to receive a hand job from a gorgeous world-famous female bodybuilder. One year ago I would have said you were crazy if you told me this was going to happen.
No way! Not me. I wouldn’t be able to do anything like that.
But – sure enough – it’s about to happen. Her touch sends shivers down my spine. Her skin feels like rich velvet. Her eyes captivate my soul. Her strength makes me swoon in ways no other woman could possibly match. Her playfulness, intelligence, kindness, sexiness and dry wit elicit emotions inside me that I know are irrational. We aren’t lovers. I just met her an hour ago. I don’t know her. She doesn’t know me. Yet why do I feel this way? Why do I feel like, in a mysteriously metaphysical way, this moment will forever be frozen in time? Why am I feeling a love for her that doesn’t make an ounce of sense? I know we could never be actual lovers, but why does this moment feel so…perfect?
As she teasingly plays with my penis, I couldn’t stop thinking about what all of this means.
The lovely Ginger Martin. Once again, none of the ladies featured here is the woman I had a session with.
So there I was. Tuesday, May 21. Sitting at my desk, staring blankly at my computer screen.
I had a hard time concentrating at work. Getting stuff done was nearly impossible. My mind was somewhere else, far away from whatever I was supposed to be doing at my job.
Thursday at 7 p.m. Got it. But where? In Seattle? Or somewhere outside of Seattle?
But suddenly, while lounging around and superfluously passing the time, I receive a much anticipated e-mail from my personal account.
It’s from GFBB! Yes!!!
Up to this point, I felt like GFBB and I have developed good e-mail chemistry, if such a thing is possible. We’ve communicated clearly back and forth, there’s been no misunderstandings (wiring the deposit money into her account went smoothly) and she’s even cracked a joke or two toward me. It definitely appears as though this arrangement is starting off on the right foot.
I’m guessing she probably gets a lot of creepy messages from random guys (and ladies) asking her to do some ridiculous things. Fetish activities, threesomes, choking (to the point of near death), posing for photos/videos, role playing and probably even straight up sex. So it was refreshing to hear that she thinks of this as less of a “sexual” arrangement and more of a “business-like” proposition.
Kathy Johansson wearing very sexy red lingerie.
Her e-mail message lets me know which hotel she’s staying at during her Seattle stop. And guess what? The hotel is less than three miles away from my apartment! Holy cow! She’s staying within a stone’s throw of where I live. This definitely bodes well.
GFBB gives me her phone number and tells me to text her when I arrive at the hotel. Alright, gotcha. I can do that.
The next two days flew by quicker than a Tokyo bullet train running away from Godzilla. I decided to take a “sick day” that Thursday because I don’t want any distractions leading up to this session. I work fairly far away from my apartment and there are times when really bad traffic, combined with terrible weather, can make my commute long and arduous. I didn’t want any emotional or physical disruptions on the day of my first ever session with a gorgeous female bodybuilder. So it seemed clear to me that being “ill” that day was justifiable.
I woke up on Thursday morning feeling fresh and alive. Butterflies weren’t swarming in my stomach yet, but I could definitely tell there was a certain electrical charge flowing through my system. Let’s face it; this doesn’t happen all the time. And a guy is totally allowed to be nervous in anticipation of his first time, right?
Shawn Tan is tall, elegant, beautiful and sexy as hell. Can we all agree?
I ate breakfast and headed out to the gym to work out. I understand I could never look as amazing as GFBB, but it never hurts to get a good workout in to get my blood flowing and to calm my nerves. I don’t normally to go the gym on afternoons, so I saw a whole different crowd than I’m used to seeing. Mostly retired folks and stay-at-home-moms.
It was leg day. Yuck.
On the agenda for the day were squats, lunges and other leg machine exercises. During my entire workout all I could think about was me – yours truly – stroking GFBB’s strong legs, caressing her biceps and fondling her breasts. Judging from pictures I’ve seen of her, she definitely has a bountiful pair of breasts. This is without a doubt something I was looking forward to experiencing!
The gorgeous Kathy Connors demonstrating the nerdy/sexy dynamic.
After my grueling workout (leg day is always grueling. Just ask anyone who actually does it!), I then walked over to the grocery store across the street from the gym. At the store I bought a nice bottle of wine to give to her as a gift. I figure it’s the least I can do to demonstrate how thankful I am that she’s willing to let me have a session with her. I then went to the bank in the same complex to withdraw the rest of the money I need to pay her.
Upon returning home, it suddenly hit me. I’m about to participate in my first ever session with a gorgeous female bodybuilder. Don’t get me wrong; I know I’m about to do this (I’ve had this planned for at least a month), but it wasn’t until this moment, with a bottle of wine and an envelope full of cash in my possession, that it really started to sink in.
I lay on my bed and tried to think of nothing. Not think about playing hooky from work. Not think about whether this session will be a disappointment or not. Not think about what she’ll think of me once she meets me. Not even think about what I’ll eat for dinner after the session is over. I tried to think of nada, nothing, zilch.
But I couldn’t. I had butterflies dancing in my stomach (they were probably participating in a drunken rave by now), my blood pressure skyrocketing through the roof and enough nervous energy of fifty chorus girls making their Broadway debut. I had to do something in the next hour to pass the time…
After publishing this new post, I looked at my phone and saw it was a little after 6 p.m. My appointment with GFBB is at 7 p.m. The venue is less than three miles away. I could get there in ten minutes. Theoretically, I could leave here at 6:30 and still be early. But darn it, I have to leave now! All this fiddling around is making me go insane.
Besides, what if I get a flat tire? What if my car magically runs out of gas? What if there’s some catastrophic accident on the road that will delay me for forty minutes? Yes, I should leave now just to play it safe.
Damn. Logic has completely left my brain. All that’s left are nothing but an aching libido and flaming nerves. I should definitely leave now or risk suffering a subdural hematoma right here in my apartment.
It never hurts to show a picture of Kim Perez, does it? No, it certainly doesn’t.
Before departing, I check my e-mail one last time to make sure I have her room number. Room 132. Okay…I’ve looked at Google Maps enough times to know where this hotel is like the back of my hand, so I’m golden on that front.
Alright. Time to go!
No more than twelve minutes later, I’m sitting in the parking lot of the hotel where GFBB is staying. Yikes! This shit is getting real! And to think that this Beautiful Muscle Goddess is a within shouting distance of where I live. Hot damn. I feel like a teenage girl about to meet a heartthrob pop star for the first time. If my voice starts to squeak indeterminately and I get the sudden urge to pass out, I’ll know why.
What time is it? Hmmmmmm…6:19.
6:20.
6:21.
6:22.
6:23.
6:24.
Holy hell. Could time move any slower?!!!
Seriously. Time could not move fast enough. As I sat there, in my car, on an overcast day in the Pacific Northwest, I began to think: Is she with a client right now at this moment? If not, could I text her right now and perhaps get a good fifteen or twenty minutes of extra session time with her? Speaking of which, is she a clock-watcher or is she very loose with how long these things last? Am I her last appointment of the day or does she have three or four other horny guys scheduled later this evening? Could some of her other clients be sitting in their cars right now, twiddling their thumbs, just like me? What if–
You know what? Screw it! I’m going to text her. I know it’s early (by the time I make this decision, it’s about 6:45), but what the hell? I’m here, aren’t I? I was told to text her just as soon as I got here, so I might as well follow along with her directions.
Nikki Fuller is one of my all-time favorites. Need I explain why?
So, I texted her to let her know I was here.
A few moments later, she replies, saying “Ok u can come to my room now.”
Well, if the lady says so…
I got out of my car, locked the door and made the “long” trek (it felt long, okay!!!) to the entrance of the hotel. Thankfully, there weren’t a whole lot of people around, except for an older Asian couple who looked as though they just arrived in town. I quickly entered the hotel, intentionally avoided making eye contact with the front desk staff and took a sharp right turn toward her room.
On one hand, I want to look like I belonged here; but on the other hand, if they don’t remember me, would they ask me what business I had being here? Better play it safe and speed walk while keeping my head down. It probably isn’t too often when a random dude comes in to their premises to meet a strange woman for a sexually-charged muscle worship session.
Walking down the long corridor, complete with a dark red carpet and Seattle-themed artwork, I decided to use the bathroom before knocking on her door. Whenever I get really nervous, I get the urge to pee. Better do it now versus wasting time later using the toilet during my session!
This is Sarah Hayes. Baby got back, n’est-ce pas?
Minutes later, I left the bathroom and proceeded forward to meet my Fate. I felt like a death row inmate making his last trip down the prison hallway before being electrocuted. Overdramatic? Of course. But if there’s ever an occasion to be unapologetically theatrical, now is the time.
I stood in front of room #132 and took a deep breath. This is it, Ryan. This is the moment you get to meet up close and personal (and hopefully, get really personal later on) with a famous female bodybuilder who’s strong, gorgeous, accomplished, well-regarded and amicable. This is it, buddy!
Another deep breath.
Exhale.
Extend hand.
Make a fist.
Knock on the door.
Wait.
The door then opens.
It creeks open ominously, almost romantically, as if I were a lost prince exploring a magical castle in a Disney movie.
I peeked my head inside to see who opened the door. Is it her? Is it–
Please note: None of the FBBs featured in this blog post is the one I set up the session with. It just never hurts to post photos of strong, gorgeous women.
Anyone who has a female muscle fetish can understand how frustrating it can be.
We love women with muscles, but women with a lot of muscles aren’t exactly common.
Yes. This is very true. How often do you see a lady with the muscular frame of Sheila Bleck walk down the street, shop at your grocery store, patronize your favorite coffee joint or stroll through your local park? Unless you work with professional bodybuilders and athletes for a living, the answer is probably not (and if you do happen to associate with female bodybuilders on a daily basis, we really need to exchange jobs!).
So guys (and gals) who love female muscle are more often than not stuck in the aggravating situation of being in love with a body type that’s more accessible through a Google search than hitting the bars at happy hour. Imagine being into blondes in a world where all you see are brunettes. Talk about agonizing!
But…for those of us who like muscular women and would love nothing more than to meet one, there’s a way to do it. It can be pricy, but if you do your homework it can be a worthwhile experience.
As you can probably imagine, being a professional bodybuilder isn’t exactly a very lucrative profession. It’s an expensive lifestyle (food, supplements, personal trainers, gym memberships, equipment, etc.) and doesn’t bring in much money. Only the top competitors win enough money to call it a career and endorsing commercial products isn’t always an viable option.
If you could get paid to be beautiful, Kristy Hawkins would be a billionaire by now.
So, many bodybuilders (I would guess mostly female) offer “sessions” to bodybuilding fans across the world. These “sessions” often involve “muscle worship,” an activity where clients feel, caress and touch the muscles of a bodybuilder for a fee. You don’t literally worship this person, but it comes awfully close.
Some FBBs offer wrestling (competitive and semi-competitive), sensual massages, grappling, scissor squeezing, posing, lifting, role playing and BDSM services in addition to muscle worship. They often travel around the country (and world) and visit major cities where enough fans are interested in paying for their services. Muscle worship sessions mostly take place in hotel rooms, but sometimes they can occur in private homes or studios if the FBB feels comfortable doing that.
I’ve known about this sort of thing for years but never thought about doing it until recently. Firstly, it’s pricy. Some sessions can cost up to $800 or as low as $400 for an hour. That’s quite a bit of money for someone who’s not exactly rolling in the dough. Secondly, muscle worship sessions (especially the sensual kinds) come dangerously close to prostitution, which I’m not inherently against, but it does come with its own social stigma.
I have nothing against prostitution per se, and I’ll admit my perspective on this matter has changed over the years, but I’ve always felt like I’m better than that. Pay someone for sex? Even if actual sex isn’t involved (and in most cases of muscle worship, full-service sex isn’t involved), this still sounds like something a desperate loser would resort to because they can’t get this anywhere else.
But on the other hand, this is different. Female bodybuilders aren’t exactly common. If feeling the body of a muscular woman is a kink of mine, and this kink isn’t easy to fulfill, what’s the harm of paying money for it? It’s not every day when an opportunity like this comes around.
Also, please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not being judgmental toward FBBs or male bodybuilders who offer sessions. I’m not equating what they do to prostitution, nor should we stigmatize those who do work in the sex industry. My hesitancy toward paying for a muscle worship session has more to do with my personal biases than my opinion about the concept of sex work. I’ve come to realize that everyone has the right to make a living by whatever means they see necessary as long as they don’t harm anyone else or themselves. This includes female bodybuilders.
So, I decided to pursue setting up a muscle worship session after careful deliberation. I decided first to do some casual online research to see what’s out there. After a lengthy Google search, I discovered the website wb270, which is essentially the Craigslist of those seeking female muscle worship sessions. I looked at the state of Washington to find out who is either local or traveling to my region.
An absolutely stunning photo of Kris Murrell.
At first, I e-mailed a local FBB, but heard no response from her. I figured maybe she wasn’t doing that sort of thing anymore and that her contact information was left erroneously on wb270’s website. I checked back a few weeks later and discovered a particular FBB would be travelling to Seattle at the end of May.
Before I continue, I’ve decided to leave the identity of this FBB a secret because of a few reasons. I’ll explain later. For now, let’s call her GFBB (Gorgeous Female Bodybuilder).
I e-mailed GFBB and asked her how much she charges for an hour long session and if indeed she’s travelling to Seattle. She didn’t respond for the longest time, which made me assume she too wasn’t interested in my inquiry. I then began to think if somehow I came across as either too creepy, or passive, or inexperienced, or something else that’s making me appear less than trustworthy. Those thoughts crept into my mind until about a week later…
She responded!
I was so excited I felt jittery all over. GFBB isn’t just beautiful and strong, but she’s a celebrity as well. Anyone who follows the world of female bodybuilding has no doubt heard of this woman. She’s a superstar of the sport and very well known to fans all over the world. When she finally responded to my e-mail, I felt star-struck and in awe that she would actually communicate with me!
We exchanged a few e-mails back and forth, discussing her travelling schedule and such. She tells me that she’s tentatively confirmed to be in Seattle on May 23, but that she needs at least three confirmed appointments before making concrete plans. This makes sense. Why book a flight to Seattle when you have no assurance you’ll land any clients?
Feast your eyes on Jana Linke-Sippl, a woman with thighs of steel (which is putting it mildly).
After learning about this, I asked GFBB what services she offers. She says she’s pretty open from anything ranging from semi-competitive wrestling, to grappling, to sensual muscle worship and other stuff in between. I told her muscle worship was my thing and that I wasn’t too keen about wrestling. I’m not really into that, to be honest. But touching this woman’s muscles? Yes, please!
She told me about her prices and says she offers two kinds of sessions: bikini and nude. Well, shucks! I can see her completely naked? Hell yes!
Naturally, a nude session costs more, but it was a price I was willing to pay. This sort of thing doesn’t happen to me all the time, so I better take advantage of it while I can.
We settled on this arrangement: One hour of nude muscle worship. She even says she’s willing to give a hand job at the end. Eureka!
This is why I’m choosing to keep the identity of GFBB a secret. Because this comes very close to prostitution, and there’s the possibility she could get into legal trouble if word leaks out, I’ve decided not to reveal who she is. Odds are I could mention her identity and no harm will come her way, but I don’t want to risk that. Also, she has family and friends who might not want to hear that she offers hand jobs to random guys who pay her. I mean, talk about embarrassing! In this age of the Internet, information can spread quicker than an STD at a college dormitory, so I’d sleep better at night knowing her willingness to give her customers a “happy ending” is kept off the Web. I try to be respectful to everyone’s reputation and personal comfort.
If more women around me looked like Emery Miller, I’d be a happy man.
So…we made our deal and I wired her some money as a deposit. After asking for some cash up front, at first I was afraid she might be scamming me, but I took a risk and trusted that she truly was who she says she is and not some flimflam man trying to con my libido-fueled idiotic ass out of easy cash.
After paying her the deposit, I played the waiting game and crossed my fingers that at least two more chaps around the Seattle area would contact her and set up appointments. She says she’ll return the deposit if she can’t make the trip. While I appreciate this, I hoped like hell it wouldn’t have to come to that.
A few weeks passed and I finally heard the good news: She has three confirmed appointments, meaning we’re on for May 23. Oh happy day! Yahoo!!!
Indeed, I felt like dancing in the streets after hearing GFBB was definitely coming to my area. My heart pounded as I proceeded to think about what sort of things I’d like to do with her. Muscle worship? Caressing her body? Touching her hardened biceps? Leaving a trail of kisses down her taut back? Rubbing her powerful thighs? Receiving a hand job from her? Holy cow! All of this would be possible now.
Anyone who isn’t into female muscle should take a look at Ocean Bloom and prepare to have their perspective changed permanently.
Whew. I’ve just booked my first muscle worship session ever. Wow. Is this really happening? Am I actually going to go through with this? Am I dreaming?
I sure hope I’m not dreaming. I pray that this is real.
Well, whether I like it or not, this is real. Shit is getting real. Very real. I’m a few weeks away from meeting a famous, gorgeous female bodybuilder in the flesh. I’m going to worship her flesh and touch her body. And she’s going to touch my body. And give me pleasure in ways I’ve never experienced before with a woman (see a previous blog post for further context). Hot damn.
I’ve just crossed a threshold. For the past several years, I’ve just been a female bodybuilding fan who’s admired strong women from a distance. I’ve had very limited up close and personal experiences with a muscular woman, so this will be unprecedented. Never in my life have I ever done something like this before. Who knows, I might never do something like this again.
But all I could do was wait. She said she’ll give me further information about which hotel she’ll be staying at a few days before our session. So all I can do is wait.
Waiting. Damn. I might not like having to count down the days on my calendar like a kid anticipating Christmas morning, but what else can I do? This is just like Christmas to me, except a lot more erotic.
So every day I looked at my calendar. Twenty days and counting. Nineteen days and counting. Eighteen days and counting. Seventeen days and counting…
The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi 